


Still A Better Love Story Than Twilight

by beavisandbuttheadyaoi



Category: Hiveswap, Homestuck
Genre: Biting, Blood Play, F/M, Other, Rough Sex, reader is female because im feeling self indulgent tonight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:09:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26389963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beavisandbuttheadyaoi/pseuds/beavisandbuttheadyaoi
Summary: Lanque is a shiny new rainbow drinker and the best way to celebrate is by railing his pitch crush
Relationships: Lanque Bombyx/MS Paint Adventures Reader, Lanque Bombyx/Reader, Lanque/MSPAR, Lanque/reader
Comments: 9
Kudos: 40





	Still A Better Love Story Than Twilight

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written a fic before, let alone posted one but there's a tragic shortage of Hiveswap smut. It's time to accept the Porn Draft.

You're pressed against the wall. His fingers trace your jaw and rest under your chin. As his thumb gently traces your lips, he smiles. It's familiar, wicked, and stark against his glowing skin.

The corridor is abandoned, but the way he illuminated the walls around you, this may as well be going down in broad daylight in the most congested city street you can imagine. Chicago, perhaps. You could just feel the burning gaze of a thousand curious hobos. That is, if Lanque could give you a moment to let your mind wander. His grip on your wrists tighten and he gently pushes his thumb past your lips. "I can feel your heart race beneath my palms" he says, voice just above a whisper as he coaxed your mouth open. With your arms secured above your head, all you can do to encourage him is pull him in further with your tongue. "It's exacerbating my neW found thirst, sWeetheart". He ran his tongue over his fangs, eyes still fixed unerringly on yours. You held his gaze and slowly, firmly, closed your jaws down on the invasive digit. Just hard enough to say 'so what do you plan on doing about it, asshole?' seeing as your mouth is too occupied to say it out loud without garbling like a moron.

What a mood killer that would be.

Lanque tightens his grip in turn, the fingers on your chin dig into your neck. Your heartbeat drums against both of his hands now, broadcasting your excitement to him in a desperate, rapid Morse code. Finally, he draws his body closer to yours and frees your mouth, only to capture it again. You pull his tongue in, eagerly tangling it with yours as his hand moves from your cheek to your hair. He ends the kiss too soon and yanks your head to the side, exposing your neck and he wastes no time pressing his lips against it, firm but oh so gentle in contrast to the rough way he grips your hair.

Finally, you can speak.

"Let go of my arms, nooksucker, I'm getting tired" you hiss. He obliges, surrendering your wrists and sliding his hand under your shirt instead. You gasp when he rolls your nipple and presses himself in closer, trailing firm, teasing kisses up your neck until he finds his (and your) sweet spot right under your jaw and clamps down. You cling to his back and grind against his hips as he sucks your neck, fangs pressed against your sensitive, now kiss bruised flesh, ready to sink in and draw your candy apple blood into his lips at any time.

Instead, he takes his time moving from one spot on your neck to another as both hands are now on your chest, greedily squeezing them and teasing your nipples before he moves to your ass and pulls himself in that much closer. Now you're trapped firmly between the wall and a thirsty rainbow drinker. "By the time I'm ready to sink my fangs into your neck, you're going to be so heaVily marked" he growled into your ear "that it Will be impossible to coVer your shame."

"Bold of you to assume I have any shame, Lanque." you grab him by the horns and he groans into your ear, hot breath fanning over your tender love bites. It's your turn to pull him in for a sloppy porn star kiss now, and he's all too happy to oblige. Lanque digs his claws into your ass and grinds his hips against yours, matching the pace of your lips. You're so fucking wet and desperate for more than just friction. Your hands glide down to Lanque's pants and now he's free to pull away from your lips, sucking your tongue indulgently before he buries his face into the unmarked side of your neck and wastes no time leaving a trail of hickies to match the other side. You pant, fumbling with his slacks; he beats you to the punch and slides a hand up your skirt. You feel him smirk against your skin when he easily shoves three fingers into your cunt and pumps at you mercilessly, running his thumb over your soaking clit in THAT way that makes you puddy in his claws. "NoW don't let me distract you, babe" he croaks. It betrays his own desperation. "Surely you can undo a pair of pants?" he hisses into your neck. It's all you can do to concentrate, fumbling with the clasp and then the buttons while Lanque relentlessly finger fucks you. You nip at his neck and it takes every ounce of your focus and dexterity to open his stupid fucking pants. You _get_ it and before you can go any further, Lanque loses the battle of wills and slaps your hand away so he can finish the job.

You bite down harder. He presses his fangs against your neck, teasingly licking a tender bruise and slides his fingers out of your panties, just so he can shove them down to your thighs. Before you even have a chance to miss him, he slams his bulge into your needy pussy and sinks his fangs deep into your neck. "FFffuck!" your cries are muffled by his shirt, face buried in his collar. Lanque digs his claws into your ass as his bulge undulates inside your tight core and you know it's going to leave tender, red stripes. You feel your own hot blood sliding down your neck and hear Lanque slurping the wound like his life depended on it, but you can't see a thing when your eyes are clamped down along with the rest of your body. You shudder, riding out your orgasm and clinging to his broad shoulders while he pumps into you as fast and hard as his position would allow. The over stimulation is almost as painful as the deep punctures in your neck, but you do not stop him. You don't want to stop him.

He stops.

Lanque lazily licks your wound while warm genetic material slides down your naked thighs. You taste something bitter and warm and realize you have bitten down on his shoulder. Before he pulls out and lets you go, he rests his forehead against yours and makes sure you can see him lick the crimson from his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> hahaha it's funny because Lanque is thirsty in two ways. I wrote that Chicago Hobo thing as a joke and I was going to omit it later but it grew on me


End file.
